Leap of Faith
by Callisto Callispi
Summary: Do you believe in dreams? Because that's how I found you. But I can't be with you, not yet. Hermione and Draco.
1. Do You Remember Me?

**Author's Note**: More drabble. Erm. Why? Because my muse is an utter bitch; I have to listen to her! . . . please don't murder me too painfully for _temporarily_ disregarding **POHAL**, **Castle**, and **Bride** . . . 

**Disclaimers**: Obviously, I am neither J.K. Rowling nor do I own the song, "Fallen" which clearly belongs to Delerium. Meh. 

**Summary**: Do you believe in dreams? Because that's how I found you. But I can't be with you, not yet. Hermione and Draco. 

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**Leap of Faith**   
_By Callisto Callispi_

**1.1 . . . Do You Remember Me?**

When was it that I first saw you? Was it that first day of school aboard the Hogwarts Express? You and I spoke then for a little bit -- no malice, no hate. That would come later. Still, I distinctly remember you telling me something. _Ravenclaw. I think Ravenclaw would suit me._ I laughed. I asked you if you were the "brainy" type, and you nodded with confidence, saying that you thought you were. And the next question was just a test. 

_"How about Gryffindor? What do you think of that house?"_

A small smile. _"Oh, I don't know. I'm not that brave, you see. But valor and courage -- what a lovely traits to possess, don't you think?"_

I thought that you were an all right person then. You see, I didn't trust people so easily back then. And even though now I treat people as if they would stab me in the back, I remember thinking then, _She isn't so bad._ But then that all changed with one word. What was that word? 

_Telephone_. 

What was a telephone? And you told me just what it was -- a communication device. A _muggle_ communication device. Why not use Floo Powder? Did your family not possess Floo Powder? You shook your head slowly. Of _course_ your family didn't use Floo Powder. Why? Because they didn't know about witches and wizards before your invitation to Hogwarts. 

The stab I felt was betrayal. Your unknowing betrayal hurt me, you know. The fact that I had been standing here in public -- a Malfoy standing so cordially next to a muggle-born witch! -- for such a length of time . . . what would Father say? 

_"Filthy creature,"_ I spat, turning away. 

That was the first time I made you cry. 


	2. I’ve Fallen From a Distant Star

**Leap of Faith**   
_By Callisto Callispi_

**1.2 . . . I've Fallen From a Distant Star.**

But when was it that I _truly_ saw you? In fact, when was it that I saw Hermione Granger, not the mudblood that I've grown so much to hate? I remember the moon. I remember snow. I remember fear, the cold, and the hate. And beneath all of that, I felt the _passion_ and the _comfort_. Love and hate are just the opposite sides of the same coin, darling. 

White puffs of snow shadowed into deep silver blanketed the grounds. Perhaps you were so tired and stressed from your Head Girl duties. I don't know. But I remember the own little hell that I fabricated for myself. Just the impending thought of the dark mark made my forearm throb with pain. The sizzle, the screams of anguish, the putrid odor of burning skin -- and that's when I saw you. 

_"Leave me alone, Malfoy. I'm in no mood tonight."_

But I disregarded your icy voice. I sat down next to you. It was ironic -- the one person that I was supposed to hate became my one source of comfort. The furtive glances that I threw at you while we walked past each other muttering obscenities those past seven years lengthened into long looks of curiosity and longing. How could I leave you tonight when you and I were away from the prying eyes of all those other Hogwarts bastards? I just sat there silently next to you, staring dully at the silver moon in all her glory, and I thought, _What a star-crossed pair we are . . ._

But you let me sit next to you, and in silence we remained on the cold stone bench that would never offer us any warmth. And heaven help me, I was at peace with myself. Ever since my oath to Voldemort, peace was precious. So many thoughts whirled in my head like a hurricane, but what could I say? How could I tell you that despite my hatred for you, I somehow grew to _depend_ on you? I've always depended on you -- your acid tongue, your haughty intelligence, your _tears_ . . . But I am clever when I wish to be. I didn't say anything to you that night for if I flopped my tongue, we would have argued, and that moment would have been shattered. I've never regretted my silence that night because I sat next to you and I gazed at the stars with you. I've never regretted that winter night -- we were strangers yet we have always known each other. We've fallen from the same star, you know. 


	3. I'm Caught Between Two Different Worlds

**Leap of Faith**   
_By Callisto Callispi_

**1.3 . . . I'm Caught Between Two Different Worlds.**

Darkness plagued the world of both muggles and wizards. Spells for murders were cast so many times, uttered by thousands of mouths . . . on both sides. And the Dark Mark on our arms burned brightly, twinging pleasurably every now and then with each kill. How we lusted for those screams of submission, those screams of utter defeat. How we relished in the sight of beautiful muggle women collapsing at our feet, begging for their lives. And how we took that sadistic delight in taking them over and over again until they died. That was my world of darkness, of rape, of utter _power_. It was the power that I enjoyed, the complete power of the kill. My wand burned in my hand with each spell, throbbing with _power_. 

We were winning, Hermione. We were winning so completely -- why did you turn away from me? Why did you insist on your pure, saintly convictions? You could have been at my side as my mistress, and then at least I could have protected you. Damn you and your mudblood pride. 

But even as I wait silently in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, my mind reflects back on that winter night five years ago. That was a world of white innocence where blood did not taint the snow as it did now. We watched the stars serenade silently to their own eternal rhythm . . . and we shared that brief eternity that night. That was a different world -- it was _your_ world where a utopian society was possible, where muggle-borns and purebloods could walk down Diagon Alley hand-in-hand. And for a few years, I believed in your world too. I want to believe in your world, Hermione. Because in that world, you and I could have shared a bed and a kiss and a life. We could have shared everything . . . our memories, our emotions, our passions . . . in your world. Oh, Hermione . . . 

You walk like a lost person, but you were never, ever as lost as I was. You were always so sure of yourself, so sure of your direction. Such a dreamer, my love. Hermione, you are the dreamer of sweet dreams while I am damned, lured into Dante's forest of horrors by the poisoned words of a honeyed whore. I lean against the black bark of the tree, just watching you with longing -- the way you walk, the way you smile, the way you hold your wand . . . 

"Such irony. Do you remember, Hermione? Do you remember that night?" I ask after minutes of contemplation, stepping into the light of the silver moon, snow moaning under my feet. _So much like that night . . . Your world, my world . . . But I have chosen._


	4. I Long For One More Night of Love

**Leap of Faith**   
_By Callisto Callispi_

**1.4 . . . I Long For One More Night of Love.**

Your eyes widen at the sound of my voice, and you grip your wand more tightly. You whip around, eyes wide and dark like a frightened doe's. Then, recognition floods your face. "Draco. You gave me fright." Your grip on your wand loosens. "What are you doing here? Did you solicit any crucial information on your mission? Shouldn't you be reporting to Dumbledore now? We've been awfully worried." 

My lips quirk in a crooked smile. "Have you worried about me?" You frown as I step closer and closer to you, but you maintain your stance. Oh, proud little Hermione. My little dreamer. 

"Of course I worried over you. You've been gone for so long. My god, Draco. You look awful. What happ --" 

But I don't answer with words; I answer with my lips. In one fluid motion, I reach for your waist and pull you harshly towards me. Your lips are cold when they brush against mine, but I have every intention of heating them up very quickly. "I want you, Hermione," I whisper before kissing you harshly. You push against my chest, dropping your wand into the snow. I nudge your lips open and slide my tongue in to meet with yours. A tingle of electricity sparks within me and heat erupts in my chest. You stop struggling and accept my affections, moaning with longing as I lodge you against the trunk of a thick old tree. You arch your back as my hands run under your coat and sweater and gently cup one of your soft breasts. A shame that we are clothed so heavily . . . 

"Come with me, Hermione," I whisper huskily in your ear between kisses. Your breaths are shallow and quick. "Please, Hermione. I want you to. Just follow me away from _them_ -- Potter, Weasley, and Dumbledore. Follow _me_. I will take care of you, make sure you are denied nothing . . . I will pleasure you like no man ever will, physically and emotionally. Just _please_, follow me." 

Your eyes widen and your lips part in unspoken horror at my words. 

"_Please_, Hermione." 

You wrench yourself away from my arms. And how achingly beautiful you are to me this night with your lips so pink and your cheeks so rosy. I've seen you flushed before, but this time, you are flushed because of me. I like seeing that blood coloring your cheeks because I know that my lips caused it. Just please come with me. 

"No." 


	5. Until You Take a Leap of Faith

**Leap of Faith**   
_By Callisto Callispi_

**1.5 . . . I Can't Be With You Until You Take a Leap of Faith.**

"No." 

That word. So much has tilted, so much has _collapsed_ with that one word, do you know that, Hermione? You stubborn little mudblood. Why do you deny me my happiness? Your eyes are piercingly angry as they bare into my skin. Oh, you little dreaming fool. _Wake up!_ "You and your little friends are fighting a losing battle, you know," I say quietly as I bend to pick up the wand that you dropped. I twirl the staff of power between my fingers casually, not minding the acute frigidity of the wood. 

"We may be fighting a losing battle, Draco, but we are fighting the _right_ battle. Why waste yourself in Voldemort's darkness? Why, Draco?" Your voice is shaking. You are desperate. You have good reason to be. 

"Power. Victory. Wealth. Don't tell me that those things don't appeal to you." You shake your head slowly as a frigid winter chill cuts through your hair and blows your unruly strands about your face. How I want to take you now. But I don't. Instead, I raise my wand. "I've always loved you, Hermione. Hate, love . . . what is the difference? They are the two sides of the same coin, right? Please. Come with me. Take a leap of faith. Because I will catch you, and I will never let you go." 

But you shake your head again as the hurricane gale whips through your robes and hair. "No. You will never catch me, Draco." 

The wind howls in agony. The trees hiss in anger. Clouds cover the face of the moon. The moon knows what is happening. The moon just knows the truth, and is that not a paradox, Hermione, that Apollo, not Selene, is the god of truth? 

"Avada Kedavra." 

The wind is silenced. Everything is silenced . . . because you are wrong, my love. You are wrong about me not catching you . . . for you never hit the snowy ground: I had you in my arms before then. I caught you even after you _tripped_ to your death, after you _refused_ my love and trust. I caught you -- that is just how much I love you. What a shameful way to die, Hermione. The two wands drop into the snow. What a foolish dreamer you were, my Hermione. But you were wrong, my love. You were so wrong. 

"I caught you, Hermione," I whisper as I kiss your frozen lips. "I caught you. And I shall never let you go." 

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**FIN**


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